


Mirth and Sorrow

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [54]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, Weddings, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: It's Greg ang Mycroft's wedding day and an unexpected attendee appears...





	Mirth and Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Break
> 
> These last few one-shots have turned into something of a continuing story. While each can stand on its own, based on its prompt, if it fits, I will be reordering them around to fit the tale chronologically as needed. This mini series begins at Part 45 with ["Out of Time"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886461) and continues through here.

“One for sorrow, two for mirth.” John raised his champagne flute, “May your joys always double any pain’s worth. _Sláinte_!”

Gregory touched his glass to Mycroft’s, Sherlock’s and then stood to give the doctor a solid hug. Mycroft stood and reached out as he took John’s hand in both of his in thanks.

Naturally, silverware was touched to crystal champagne flutes for the newlywed couple to kiss amidst the applause and various calls of cheers that filled the room after John’s best man speech.

It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon secular service. Gregory acknowledged his now husband’s atheism by not having an overly religious ceremony. Mycroft acknowledged Gregory’s faith by having a priest officiate and bless their union. He even managed to keep a serene face as the priest's fingers, dipped in holy water, made the sign of the cross on the Iceman's forehead, though he had squeezed the hands of an amused Greg a little tighter during the act.

“I was in reasonable fear that black smoke would seep through Mycroft’s forehead at the point of contact for a moment there. I was damned sure the bible the priest had Sherlock hold open would burst into flames.” John teased a bit later.

“I thought I heard a sizzle for a second.” Sherlock added with wry self-depreciation, “After all, I had not touched a bible since I pretended to be a vicar to get into Irene Adler’s place. The huge gilded tome I held today did seem to be slowly warming up from more than body heat transference."

A beautiful sunny afternoon had turned into an equally beautiful moonlit evening as the two best men and the two newlyweds chatted.

The Iceman, who was anything but this day, reached out and ran a loving hand along Greg’s jaw, the detective inspector placed a warm kiss in Mycroft’s hand before they remembered themselves and turned back to the best men before them.

“The close of your toast, John. Where did you get the rhyming sentiment?” Mycroft asked the former army captain.

Sherlock and John gave each other knowing amused looks at the sudden new subject.

“The first part  _one for sorrow, two for mirth_ was something I always heard my Mum say at weddings. I ad-libbed the other part just then. You two have gone through the wringer and then some to get here.” John grabbed a passing wine glass and raised it to the brand spanking new newlyweds. “You deserve this happiness today and so many more.”

“It was a lovely close. Thank you, John.” Greg grinned as he took the last wine glass on the tray as the same waitress passed him. He took a long sip before he locked his arm through Mycroft’s “So, shall we continue making the rounds my husband?”

“We most certainly shall.” Mycroft grinned at Gregory. “I have to say I do love the sound of those two words from your mouth.”

“My husband.” Greg repeated with a smile, then gasped lightly.

“Gregory?” Mycroft looked to Greg at the odd sound.

“I imagine you thought you’d never hear anyone say those words to you did you, brother dear?”

The four men immediately turned to the waitress who spoke.

“Eurus!” Sherlock stared at his disguised sister in shock. “How?”

“Too bad it will be the last time.” the woman smiled.

John dropped his wine glass and immediately looked from the escaped homicidal psychopath to the detective inspector as Gregory started to choke knowing it was too late.

“No!” Mycroft cried in horror, his eyes solely on Gregory, as his husband, his heart, the glass Gregory had held and his world simultaneously collapsed and broke.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, sometimes Muse is heartless.


End file.
